When You're Licked
by RavingBabbit
Summary: Tohru, you smell like an ashtray! Almost like Hari!
1. When You're Licked

A/N: I don't own Fruits Basket. The German and Dutch in here does not need to be translated to understand the story. Please forgive foreign grammatical errors.

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**When You're Licked**

A kiss, by definition, was really a very simple biological exchange. From crude references to illustrious passages that out-gayed some of Ayame's ramblings, the actual fact was universal: two or more people had to be involved to meet the acceptable guidelines. Years of medical practice had educated Dr. Sohma on the physical complications of kissing--transferring diseases and haywire nervous transmissions and the like. He had even read somewhere that humans could smell each other's pheremones when kissing.

He knew all this. Yet he had to ask himself: "How can you know this much and still be so dumb?!"

On December 31, 1999, at approximately the dinner hour, one idiot Hatori Sohma had kissed one very pretty Tohru Honda and was likely to repeat that offense if he did not leave her alone this very second. They were near the main house-- a shipwreckful of Sohma, any one of which would tip them off to Akito-sama. Oh yeah, and she was clearly a student. He shuddered as the frigid breeze numbed his wet lips. He had never lost control like that with Kana, and the reality lanced him as he scoped the area, suspicious of the shadows elongating on the snow.

"The wind is picking up a lot--might be a blizzard. You shouldn't be out in the cold by yourself."

Hatori picked up Tohru's shopping duffle and dusted off the powdered snow as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Really? I feel warm," she said, before her blush creeped below her neck.

The shell of her ear flushed prettily and he had had to stop himself from covering it with his hand. By imagining the creepy, annoying things Shigure would whisper to him through the phone if the Dog caught wind of this. At 3 in the morning. THAT by itself was enough to get him marching and Tohru quickly followed, but not too closely. She was quiet behind him that if not for the crunch of her shoes, he would have forgotten her, which was a blatant lie.

He barely got the key through the door when it burst open and a blur of honey and lavender dashed into Tohru's arms.

A popping sound and a rush of air cleared the snow all around Tohru and the little golden bunny in her arms who she tucked into the soft bosom of her coat. Hatori understood then Kyou's compulsive abuse of Momiji and shook himself. He was Momiji's guardian-- not the little boy's rival.

"Tohru, you smell like an ashtray! Almost like Hari!" Momiji sneezed and hippity-hopped out of her arms into the spicy warmth of their home to change back into a clothed boy. Hatori and Tohru followed.

"That was me," Hatori said, and if it was anyone else, that would have been a brag. "The wind blew my smoke all over her."

"MY MY TORI-SAN! I DIDN'T THINK YOU WOULD PLUCK A FLOWER WHILE YOU WERE CLEARING YOUR HEAD IN THE BLIZZARD. AND IT SOUNDS LIKE TOHRU IS THE VIRGINAL MAIDEN SENT TO APPEASE A DRAGON SPIRIT LIKE THIS MEAT-EVIL NOVELLA GURE-SAN RELEASED LAST MONTH!!!"

Hatori pretended he didn't hear the rest of it. "Shigure's books are a blight on the body of contemporary Japanese print, to say the least. And it's 'medieval', Ayame." He sent a cool look at the white snake curled around a hot water bottle.

Tohru exclaimed otherwise. "Oh, you think so? I read that one, I think. She ended up with the dashing prince, but I thought the dragon was kind to the peasant girl! The dragon was really trying to chase her away with his cold attitude because he admired how she was never afraid of him. I think they would have been sweet togeth--" She held up her mittened hands and waggled them. "--but my reading comprehension scores weren't that great."

Hatori would have laughed if he didn't feel like Shigure had sucker-punched him in the gut. "It's fine, Tohru-kun. I respect opinions, " he assured her.

"...based on thinking," Hatori added for Ayame's benefit.

"Ah! Hi Ayame-san! Um, did you say there was a blizzard?" Tohru asked. Then her palm went to her forehead. "And Hatori-san said so, too! May I use your phone, Hatori-san? I want to call Yuki-kun and Kyou-kun and let them know."

"MY BELOVED AND BEAUTIFUL BROTHER WOULD ALREADY KNOW," Ayame said, cuddling the water bottle. "BUT HE'LL HURRY OVER LIKE A GOOD BOY IF HE KNOWS YOU'RE HERE SAFE FROM WILTING IN THE STORM. IN FACT, TOHRU-KUN, I'LL CALL HIM AND KYON-KYON FOR YOU WHILE YOU FIX UP COFEE FOR HAA-SAN AND HOT CHOCOLATE WITH MARSHMALLOWS FOR YOURSELF AND MOMIJI!!"

Strengthened with the prospect of contacting Yuki, Ayame sprouted into a mightily naked man and Tohru accepted his proposition by dashing to the kitchen, pink to the tips of her toes.

"What are you doing here, Ayame?" Hatori asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as Ayame deftly laced his chemise.

"I BROUGHT YOUR ROBES AND THOUGHT I'D WAIT FOR YOU BEFORE THE MIDNIGHT BANQUET BEGAN! I DIDN'T THINK YOU WOULD BRING TOHRU-KUN AROUND HERE WITH A LITTLE BOY IN YOUR CARE! GURE-SAN WILL BE SCANDALIZED."

Being the only one Ayame "listened to" was crap if there was not a single second he could not get in a word edgewise.

Any jibes Hatori could have used were drowned out by Ayame's persistent calling. "HALLO KYON-KYON! WOULD YOU BE A DARLING PUSSY AND--" The phone line went dead. Further attempts to call the home phone were less fruitful, as Kyou had possibly karate chopped the phone through the wall (and broke Shigure's house).

Hatori was already on his cell phone. "--yes. She's over here already. You and Kyou should get here soon. Kyou doesn't want to--? Well, I suppose he wants to eat oranges under the kotatsu with Shigure--"

Hatori perceptively pointed the receiver away from his ear just in time to hear "Freaking Mutt ate all the oranges and said he didn't want me to turn all orange! I'm coming, damn it. I'll beat the lazy Rat here!" There was the sound of something thudding very loudly on the floor.

"All three of us will be over shortly, Hatori-san. See you later." Yuki's voice was placid despite the smackdown he'd surely pulled on Kyou.

"Was that Yuki-kun?" Tohru asked, bearing a tray that smelled tantalizingly like mocha. Hatori thanked her as he wrapped his hands around the steaming mug, not thinking about how her fingers brushed the joints of his left middle and ring fingers..

"Yes, and Kyou," Hatori said, unable to meet her curious glance.

Momiji followed her out of the kitchen and danced around until she handed him the hot chocolate. "Yay! Tohru added the whip cream." Listening to Momiji's intensely simple pleasure over a beverage made Hatori feel extremely foolish. Momiji was a very good boy, and would not begrudge Hatori anything. 'If he were to find out, and he _won't_, because I'll be damned if I kiss her again.'

Tohru beamed, blissfully unaware that she was tormenting a grown man. "I brought Momiji-kun, Kisa-chan, and Hiro-kun gifts from Christmas. It's not much and I couldn't get it to you on time since I was pulling a shift on Christmas Eve."

Momiji tried his damnedest to outmatch her beaming. He came close, his tired cheeks conceded defeat, and he consoled himself with tearing open the cute, sparkling package with his name all over it.

"Was..?" Momiji asked. "Den Standhaftige Tinsoldat...?"

Even though he'd said it in a foreign tongue, Tohru understood. "It really isn't much. It's a CD of The Steadfast Tin Soldier, dubbed in German...The storekeeper told me that it had a lot of violin in it. He sold it to me at a reduced price when I told him about how you play the violin and how you make it so pretty."

Hatori and Ayame (for once) were quiet as Momiji turned his head and wiped at his eyes with his fist. "Danke schön, Tohru." His eyes were too bright. "Let's go up to my room and listen!" He got up with such energy that it was a good thing he'd put that mug of hot chocolate down, else he'd have emptied it onto the ceiling. Holding hands with Tohru giggling at his antics, Momiji led the way, German adjectives for "pretty" and "love" and "yay!" lacing the hallway like a banner of cheer.

"I wish that Hiro would have witnessed that. One must give much credit to Tohru's awareness at times," Ayame said. He picked up the still steaming cup of hot chocolate that Tohru had not touched. "Oh my, she used milk to warm it. How lovely."

"Really?" Hatori asked, because she had given it to him without any sugar or creamer, just the way he liked it.

"Yes. Momiji was telling me earlier that he was starting to forget his mother tongue. You know how society is to bi-racial children. 'The nail that sticks up gets hammered down.' I even saw it in America. Right?" At this, Hatori nodded though he had asked about something else. He had seen Momiji streaming dozens of German infomercials on the computer recently; now it made sense (and Momiji was not channeling an obsession for the Home Shopping Network).

"That moody of his..." Hatori muttered. Then the gears turned in his ever-shifting mind. "Did she say the Tin Soldier?"

Hatori remembered now: "The ballads are based on an old Danish fairy tale adopted by Hans Christiansen. The one-legged tin soldier and the paper ballerina, also balanced on one leg, were unwanted toys who died together in the fire place."

"TORI-SAN, YOUR POETIC MEMORY ASTOUNDS ME. I THOUGHT IT WAS A WEIRD GERMAN CARTOON BUT YOU JUST REMINDED ME OF THE BEAUTIFULLY TRAGIC TALE, A MESSAGE OF TRANSCENDENT LOVE, THE TAKEAWAY MESSAGE OF HOW 'THROUGHOUT HARDSHIP AND DIFFICULTIES OF LIFE, ONLY LOVE IS ETERNAL!!' JUST LIKE THE LOVE BETWEEN THE MABUDACHI TRIO!!"

"No," Hatori said, ignoring Ayame's wails. It was certainly an unusually insightful gift. Momiji needed a reminder of who he was; a German heart with a musician's passion. Hatori had almost throttled the boy's father when the man asked his son to give up the violin.

"He had the chance to be accepted into a program of Western studies for the fall semester of his junior year at a respectable public school in Germany," Hatori said. "He wants to heal people."

Ayame abruptly quit the banshee act and his cool hand snaked onto Hatori's white knuckles. "You must be proud, Tori-san."

"Momiji is a talented and sincere child. Akito--" Hatori broke off, gulping the rest of the coffee, wishing that the scalding hot coffee hurt more than the twinge in his chest.

"You can't do more for him than you already have. You know you are more than an uncle to him," Ayame said. "Momiji will make it through medical school like you, too, Tori-san!"

"I would never want my life for him," Hatori said. "I'm not a good man."

"You are SO patient with Akito and sacrificed almost as much as Gure-san. And, well, you know The Lore. Dragon-san let Rabbit-san ride on his back during their Pilgrimage to the Jade God!!!"

There was no other time to make his point. "I'm getting closer to someone that I shouldn't."

Ayame stopped dead at the pained look on Hatori's face.

The front door banged open, and three animals trailed frost all over Hatori's impeccably varnished flooring.

A white mouse quickly scuttled onto Hatori's couch and sank into a plush pillow. "That was a foolish display of your thick head," Yuki sniffed. "There were sharp and deadly icicles, you buffoon."

"I hate you!" Kyou yowled, back arching as his claws protracted. "Lemme hear you say that to my paw, Rat-Face!"

"I almost froze to death, but the prospect of never seeing you again, Aya...!" After spitting out a sizeable cloth bundle, Shigure shook himself off like the dog he literally was, clumps of thawing snowflakes scattering all over and drawing hateful words from Yuki and Kyou. "Hi Haa-san! Real sorry about messing your place up."

"I would appreciate it if you stuck with destroying your own house," Hatori said, without his usual bite.

Shigure's amiable grin sharpened, and it only took a glance between a ghostly silent Ayame and a slouching Hatori to whiff an Interesting Detail.

"It will be the New Year," Shigure said, managing a shrug in his altered body. "Perhaps not as auspicious a transition for you, Haa-san."

Three opaque clouds popped into existence, to be replaced with shivering men who quickly dressed.

That was Ayame's misguided cue to dodder over Yuki. "YUKI, HAVE YOU BEEN LOSING WEIGHT?! I MUST TALK TO TOHRU-KUN ABOUT YOUR DIET POST-HASTE!"

"Don't impose your make believe troubles on Honda-san," Yuki said, his features sunk with a frown.

"DID YOU EAT DINNER?" Ayame exclaimed, but thought better of it with Yuki's reproachful look. "OH. YOU MEAN YOU STILL FAST BEFORE THE NEW YEAR LIKE OUR FAMILY LIVING INSIDE! WHAT A DUTIFUL YOUNG MAN YOU ARE BECOMING!! YOU ARE LIKE TORI-SAN BUT IMBUED WITH MY FINE SENSE OF AESTHETICS."

Hatori thunked a cushion on Ayame's head to calm him down. Usually, he was not so bad, and Hatori quietly apologized to Yuki since he felt responsible.

"What for, Hatori-san?" Yuki said tiredly. "Nii-san is responsible for himself. Unless you gave him the chocolate."

"TOHRU-KUN..." Aya was nudged by Hatori again. "I mean, that is, Tohru-kun made it for myself and Momiji. They are in his room, if you wish to wish them happy holidays."

"Feh, like that fruit cake needs any more sweets," Kyou-kun said, but he shuffled off willingly. Yuki was quicker and elbowed Kyou-kun to the wall. A muffled cocaphony of thuds and melee ensued in addition to the howling wind.

"Now you know what I suffer," Shigure said, always knowing when to douse a fire with oil. "Perhaps the fates have passed the mantle of Broken House from my shoulders."

"It is nearly time for the First Banquet," Hatori said curtly. "I trust that Yuki will alert Momiji when it is time."

"Lock the door when I go and make sure the gas is off," Hatori added, going to his room to change in the Dragon's Garb that Ayame had brought him this year.

"Wait for me, Tori-san. I stitched in some new and interesting buttons for a MODERN fit!!" Ayame dashed after him, rosy with the expectation of stripping Hatori down and dressing him up.

There was no way Shigure was going to miss that. He got up to tag along, but Ayame threw his arms around Shigure, whispering in his ear, "Tori-san will explain himself later." Then, louder: "Just make sure the Yearling and my brother make it to the Banquet!... and DO remind Kyon-Kyon to be careful with Tori-san's things!"

"Anything for you, Aya! Perhaps he'll learn to breathe fire if Kyou-kun doesn't learn his lesson." Shigure played along.

"...he'd freeze Kyonkichi with his ice breath," Ayame said. The pair winked and twiddled thumbs in obscure patterns.

Meanwhile, Momiji sat on Tohru's toasty lap, enjoying the way she stroked his back and his ears and the way her warmth protected him from the sad things he long understood. He could not word the sad things in German or Japanese, but he could recognize it in the clash of the orchestra and the woman's pretty, fragile song fighting to be heard.

"Do you think I'll ever be a real boy?" Momiji asked, nuzzling Tohru's soft shoulder.

"You are a real boy, Momiji-kun. You're getting bigger and handsomer every day!" If not for his transformed ears, he would not have heard her quiet reassurance.

"Mutti couldn't learn to love me," Momiji said. "Papa tries his best, and I really felt for him when he wanted to keep Momo away by stopping my music lessons. But I also feel what that Kind Traveler felt when he fed his hand to a demon. I don't know what else I can give Papa if he asks, not that Papa is a demon! Nein! Ich weiss einfach nicht mehr weiter."

Agitated, Momiji hopped onto his bed and pulled the covers over himself.

Tohru was charmed whenever he twisted his tongue for her to understand him. She couldn't imagine expressing such a vast array of emotion and confusion in another language like Momiji could.

"Ich liebe dich," she said, or tried to. She had to push out the robust consonants, but she stayed true enough to the pronounciation that if Momiji was human, he would've transformed into a Rabbit again.

"Tohru's Deutchen is very funny!" Momiji giggled, delighted. "But you said it right! I love you, too!"

That set off Tohru and they lapsed into giggles until Momiji's ears perked up at the wheedling notes played by a lone violinist. "Do you know the story of The Steadfast Tin Soldier, Mutter Tohru?"

The way Momiji expressed the Tin Soldier having one leg and braving all his adventures like he did, accompanied by the music, plucked many of Tohru's heartstrings as the violinist guided the strings of his instrument. She didn't know when to clap her hands or collapse into sobs when she learned of the Tin Soldier's fate and the beautiful Ballerina.

"The first time Papa told me," Momiji said, "it ended happy with the Tin Soldier and his Ballerina living together in a fairy world where there was no pain. But I think Papa didn't want to make me grieve, so he erased the real ending and told another one to his four-year-old son. I forgave Papa when I grew up and knew better, but I still think the truth should never be forgotten."

Momiji poofed into a boy with guarded eyes, finger to his lips. "That's a secret, too."

The notes crashed all around them and the CD winded down and someone (Yuki) politely knocked before Kyou rattled the knob and opened the door.

"Kyou and Yuki! Hallo! Wie geht's?"

"What the frick are you doing like that?" Kyou asked, eyebrow edged high into his forehead.

"It's okay, Kyou-kun," Tohru said. "I like seeing Momiji-kun as Rabbit-san just like I like Kyou-kun as Cat-san." She turned her contented smile to Yuki and didn't need to finish.

"Hmph," Kyou said, rubbing his neck which brightly clashed with his orange hair. "It's time for Momiji to go change."

Tohru's finger tips steepled and it seemed like the lights in the room intensified. "Of course. Best of luck with the dancing! I wish I could see!"

A shudder seemed to pass through the Rabbit and the Rat, and Tohru's arms lowered. "..don't I? I heard Yuki's dance was beautiful."

Yuki's Other Smile snapped into place. "Did Shigure tell you that? What he said is misleading. Don't worry yourself on our account, Tohru. You may cook as you like in Hatori's kitchen; it's kept well stocked when the weather's moody."

"Ja! Cook up a storm! Viel! Eine gut Idee! We'll be hungry schliesslich!!"

"Um, yes, viel?" Tohru picked out the easiest part of Momiji's jumbled vocabulary. Momiji's answering grin made her feel less like an idiot. "I'll see you later, Momiji-kun!"

"Bai Bai Tohru."

She stood outside his room and Kyou went with her. As soon as they were out of ear-shot, the flat of his knuckle rapped one side of her head. "Oi, what's with you?"

She made a weird nose between a snork and a hiccup followed by a tummy gurgle, which had Kyou leaning into the wall laughing.

"I'm a little hungry," Tohru admitted, grateful for her weird body. "We should make lots of soup and biscuits, Kyou-kun!! And prepare lots of soba we can heat up when they get back!" She couldn't very well explain to Kyou-kun the emotional maelstrom turning her heart every which way because he only had two public expressions he was comfortable with: mad and madder. To unload a thimbleful of it would send him running to the mountains.

It was too cold, in Tohru's personal opinion, to spend the days meditating under a waterfall and the bears were too sleepy to thrash anyone.

She took his hand and tugged on his sleeve. "Let's make New Year's Soba."

"Alright, but go easy on the onion," Kyou groused, embarrassed and pleased and unable to show the better part of his feelings. He trotted ahead so that Tohru would be the one trailing behind.

As Kyou herded her into the kitchen, a blue ripple caught Tohru's eye. She caught only an impression of his majestic profile tensed through the gales of snow swirling into the foyer and she shook herself and glanced her elbow on the doorframe. "Ow..."

"Be careful woman! How did you learn to cook without firefighters getting involved?!"

"There were a couple times...--but, um, I'm sorry; I don't mean to worry you," Tohru said, but her eyes were riveted on his own violet ones. Out of consideration for Kyou, Tohru smiled and averted her fluttering lashes as she stepped into the kitchen.

Dazed, Hatori realized that she thought him handsome in the stuffy robes Aya had trapped him in.


	2. Grin and Bear It

A/N: I do not own Fruits Basket. The little bit of Japanese is not relevant to the story. There needs to be more TatsuOnigiri.

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**Grin and Bear It**

Hatori smirked as he glided through the gales. The cursed spirit was feeling the potential building upon its imminent rebirth; his power was the closest it would ever approach the Jade God. He felt as though he could take what he wanted. His foot faltered as one exception flared rebelliously through his cool strength.

"What a good pet Dragon." Akito, bundled in silk and furs, greeted him in the unfurbished courtyard. The air was unnaturally still in the area; not a withered leaf stirred. The snow had been swept elsewhere but that mattered little for Akito sat upon a block of marble and her slender ankle poked out of the lush pelt. Hatori kneeled and cupped her heel, and covered her pale toes with a decorative sash he tore off his robe. Akito nearly purred when Hatori kissed the red silk gracing her foot and pulled the fur over it.

"I thought it was the master who doted on the pet," Akito cooed. She deigned to remove her hand from a warm nook and imparted some of her heat to Hatori's cheek. The gesture was almost tender, but her fingers closed like talons over the untidy fringe covering Hatori's blind eye. "I can feel your might, Dragon. Remember that I have sealed your heart in this eye and that you are incapable of being brave, my Heartless pet. Now take the place I have given you and mind your steps."

An interminable period of time passed in which Hatori sat on his haunches, with only rice and a medley of vegetables to warm him under the wintry sky. The tension in his shoulders eventually gave out to the weight of the atmosphere settling around the Sohma Banquet square. He felt the arrival of his clansmen, and could only muster the briefest of New Year congratulations, as was the custom. When all were seated on the dry stone grounds, with the exception of the Horse, they dined as one from their cold plates.

There was no way to explain the proceedings of the Banquet to an Outsider, especially if they were watching. A normal adult would see a teenaged girl who looked like a starved hospital inmate playing with the birds kept on the estate or whispering to a man who neither ate nor spoke nor responded. One would glean that the man refused to play with any of the birds despite her clinging. All around her were those clearly older and wiser than her who were qualified to be her legal guardian, who would tell her to get inside where it's warm, to sleep off the rest of her prescription before the dawn, and not to wrap herself intimately around a young, but older man.

Hatori, who in the profane world qualified as a guardian, had no such authority in the sacred circle. His family's power was bound by an intricate order, impervious to the dynasties built and fallen, one atop the other. And there would be no forgiveness, no mercy, no justice because their way had no place for such things. No kiss, no lovemaking, and no hope could defeat how much black and anger and blood had fueled their way.

How could any of them expect any one person to topple a higher order? It was unfair to Akito, to Shigure, and to Tohru.

As one, the sacred feast concluded, chopsticks clinking in sympathy on empty plates. A woman with darkly inked eyes put candles and bowls of ashes and incense before the Jyuunishi in the order of the Winners; she paused briefly to spit on Rin's untouched plate. Akito smirked, and bade the woman to quit their presence.

"Happy New Year, my willful Beasts! Now what offerings and prayer would you present for Me in the Dragon's Rebirth?" Akito subsided, and though her chest heaved, no a single rasp cut the air.

One by one, each of them crawled, pounced, or padded their way to offer three burning sticks of incense in the gold-trimmed red urn at the foot of the God's throne. Akito wickedly knudged Kisa with her foot when the Tigress made her offering and yawned when the last one, the Boar, made hers.

"Rabbit," Akito called.

Momiji's eyes were red and his hair gleamed like precious metal in the glow of the candles. His entrance into the center of their circle was nothing short of violent, leaping clear over Shigure at times, yet managing to avoid whipping the Dog with a stray sleeve or sash. Momiji winked at Kisa as his foot soared over her petite crown, at a speed that would have cracked her neck. As the incense burned down and the ashes gathered, Momiji's dancing stabilized and took up far less space. Hatori appeared to fly into the brackish night and alight gracefully at Momiji's back, the wick of the candles flaring the second he touched ground.

While both were skilled, it was clear the Dragon's movements were more inspired, more biting, and unfairly superior to the Rabbit's. Though the Rabbit had the Dragon on his toes, it was not the Dragon being herded and pushed off the center of the circle. As the Sohma pitched their ashes in the ring, Akito noted the Dragon's footfalls running dominant. Finally, Rabbit collapsed, spent and languid beside the Tigress, leaving the rest to applaud the Dragon's concluding triumph.

The sky arched over their ceremony was red with the old blood of the last Year and the victor knelt in the ashes.

"A fine display," Akito clapped, slow and loud. "Does the elusive Dog agree?"

Hatori's eyes flitted sharply to Shigure.

"_You_ wouldn't see anything finer," answered the Dog, picking at a nail.

Akito frowned, but turned to the Rabbit. "Do you accept your successor?"

"Ja."

Akito didn't react.

"Hai, I accept."

"I couldn't ask for a more proper response," Akito snapped. "To the rest of you, scram. I am tired, cold, and hungry for all your sakes. Never forget that." Her terrible eyes lowered and no one moved until Kureno carried her well out of sight.

Momiji snoozed comfortably on Hatsuharu's back as Ayame, Hatori, and... "Crap," Haru said. "Is everyone going to Tori-nii's house?"

"I'm needed to remove the costumes," Ayame said, disquieted from the hours. And Yuki would come back to check on Tohru all alone with the Cat.

"Momiji-chan told me Kyon was eating New Year's Soba there," Kagura said, peekly shyly at Hatori.

"Party up at Haa-san's! Parrrtay at the Dragon Baby's Crib!!!" Shigure guffawed, cheerily slapping Hatori on the back, who harshly squeezed and removed Shigure's now bent hand.

Haru glanced down at Hiro's scowl, then Kisa's high-beam smile and buried his knowing grin behind wide, placid eyes.

"Haru," Momiji mumbled.

"What?" Haru asked.

"Why do you always wear nice, black leather when it's all going to get dirty?"

Haru's mellow, lecherous answer was drowned out by Hatori. "No one destroy my house."

Ever the responsible one, Hatori called his house phone.

'Mushi mushi?" answered Tohru, husky from sleep. "This is Sohma Hatori's residence."

He was reminded strongly of Kana when she was still strictly the office assistant.

"Hi Tohru-kun. Akito ended early. I hope you have enough food for the entire year," Hatori said.

He could almost hear her eyes snap to attention. "Holy buckets, is everyone coming?! How much time do I have?"

He almost laughed, if he weren't wired from the adrenaline. "It's a good hour long walk from the banquet house to mine and everyone is tired. Plan for seconds, if you can."

"Hai! I will not fail! Kyou-kun, quickly!" She forgot to hang up; he heard a great deal of male cursing and clanging metal before he cut the line. That was so Tohru.

When they reached his front door, Hatsuharu lightly kicked the door in and Hatori was too exhausted to tell Shigure to shut the hell up. "You could've asked one of us to open the door for you," Hatori said, but he didn't really care because he was peeling off the robe's complex layers, braiding, and buttoning that Ayame's clever needle had made possible. He would've gotten away with going to bed, too, if it weren't for his meddling childhood friends.

His eyes were closed, but he was pretty damn sure Shigure had clicked the lock into place as Ayame cuddled up next to him on the bed.

"You promised me, Aya," Shigure pouted. "Why's Haa-san been more of a spoil sport?"

"Well, that is," Aya said, clearly not thinking it through when he made such a promise. Found in a bind, Aya instinctively poked Hatori. "Tori-san, help me out here!"

Hatori's eye rolled open. "I'm going to say one thing and then you are not to wake me up until pigs fly."

"Tori-saaan, Kagura doesn't dance until another seven years!"

"Geez," Shigure said. "And I'm the jellyfish? Spit it out."

"YOI OTOSHIWO!!!" everyone cheered for their first New Years meal.

Much clanking of chopsticks persisted on the steaming bowls of tsukimi soba. Those not slurping at the bright egg yolk sizzling in a mouth-watering aroma spectated the quiet, but fervent duel of chopsticks between Kyou and Yuki. Apparently the Rat had _accidentally_ flicked bits of negi strictly into the Cat's portion.

"It's like a leek! No one should be made to eat this crap!" Kyou growled. "Ah... " All eyes went to Tohru and Kyou lowered his fist and furiously gulped down the long noodles. While his glare never abated on Yuki serenely enjoying New Year's Soba, he managed to chew without involving the treacherous rings of negi.

"Who knew that Tori-nii kept food in his kitchen? He's the unhealthiest doctor I know!"

"He's the only doctor who wouldn't lock your weird body up in a lab."

"Oji-chan has enough to feed Momitchi. Of course he would."

"Tohru-kun, Kyou seems to like it.. did you prepare or buy the dashi?"

The conversation, the din of eating, and the overall happy atmosphere served to highlight Tohru, who exchanged niceties between several of the others while refilling empty bowls at a rate faster than the bowls would cool. As the meal settled down and the younger Sohma giggled at Ritsu's burping and mortified apologies, Tohru took out her Secret Weapons. The remaining Sohma were surprised with New Years trinkets.

"Onee-chan is amazing!"

"...it's not challenging to boil noodles and broth at the same time..."

"But I could never learn to do that.." Wistful tawny eyes.

Sheepish frown. "That's not what I-- uh..."

"ha Ha HA! How merry the mood!"

A particularly loud slurp of noodles punctuated Ayame's appearance at the table. Of course, Tohru made haste to prepare a steaming bowl but Ayame raised a fair, well-polished hand. "No thank you, Tohru-kun. I'm here to conclude the meal." He was met with protests and groans.

"Odd. Since when were you the responsible adult, Ayame?" Hiro asked.

"No questions accepted, my prickly lamb. Everyone here will no doubt crash after last night's...festivities.. and Tori-san simply doesn't have the futons to supply all of you."

At this, Kisa clapped a hand over her mouth before the treacherous yawning started. But it was too late. Hiro caught it right after being insulted and Haru and Ritsu and Kagura were stifling yawns. Kyou desperately tried to make a sliding escape as Kagura's head bobbed on his shoulder. Last time that had happened, she had smacked him around for having such bony shoulders. ('It's BONE Kagura; It's not apposed to give." "Then I'll beat you to a pulpy pillow!")

This time, Kagura grabbed half his face and practically head-butted him in the process of nestling her head in the crook of his shoulder.

"Oh! But I don't want to leave such a big mess for Hatori-san to clean up," said Tohru. She launched out of her seat to pile the bowls and spoons.

"Very well," Ayame said, raising one hand. Tohru froze. "I know I can trust you not to wake up Tori-san, Tohru-kun. Clean up as you see fit. Do you know the number to Shigure's okiya?"

At her nod he said, "Of course you would. Call home if it gets too blustery to walk back."

Kyou would have objected to Tohru staying over if he wasn't carried to the van like a sack of kitty litter on Kagura's shoulder.

"Gure-san, load the children into the family van, ho hum?" Ayame asked even though most of them packed into the van.

"Do I get the keys?" Shigure asked. He slammed the passenger doors to the van closed over the wide-eyed terror present in the Sohma children. The passenger doors clicked as the child locks activated. No escape.

Ayame smiled deviantly. "I suppose. The children should be treated to your driving. Your refusal to conform to traffic lines and signals is highly inspiring."

"Aya," Shigure breathed longingly. "Would you allow me to be your Highwayman?"

"ALL RIGHT!!!"

Shigure cheerfully hopped into the driver's side, but Yuki tapped a crucial pressure point on Shigure's shoulder, and Shigure slumped onto the wheel. As an afterthought, Yuki tapped another region on Shigure's spine which would insure the Dog woke up with three annoying cricks in his neck. Even Hiro exhaled in relief as Yuki crammed Shigure onto Ayame's lap before comandeering the wheel.

"Such friendly waves," Tohru said, finding Hana-chan's words appropriate for the occasion.

Tohru locked the door after she went in to clean up bowls. When all the dishes were washed and dried, Tohru fretted over the steaming broth left in the pot.

The unexpected susurration of the sliding door cut through her humming and made her jump roughly half an inch. Her back ached from where she hit the edge of the counter.

"Ah, Hatori-san, I thought you and Momiji were sleeping," she said, spinning around to hide her red face at seeing his. Tohru wished there were dishes in the sink she could wash instead of turning around.

"I am too wired to sleep," Hatori said, seating himself at the table. His decreased height advantage put Tohru at ease and her mothering instincts took over.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. A rumble from his traitorous body had her smiling over ladlefuls of broth she spooned into Hatori's bowl. Though she had her fill of soba earlier, Tohru also prepared a smaller bowl for herself and joined him for a small meal.

If, on an off chance, he looked at her and commented on her pink face, she could blame the steaming bowl of broth.

She needn't have worried. Once he ate his fill, he put his emptied bowl in the sink and thanked her tersely. "Don't bother cleaning up Tohru. Ayame shouldn't have put you up to this. Here's cab money."

And if the room wobbled and drowned through her tears, it was really easy to blame the cold soup she barely touched as he walked out the kitchen.

Though they exchanged few words, Tohru understood Hatori's message perfectly. His kiss didn't count. At seventeen, she was so dumb and clumsy that her first kiss ever didn't count. If anyone cared to ask her, the sad truth on her face would say it all. She wasn't lying if she answered, "No, it didn't happen."

She kept a shred of her dignity as she dumped the soup and cleaned the bowls despite what Hatori told her. The money on the table stayed on the table as Tohru bundled herself up, locking the door softly after herself.

"Don't worry Mom. Your daughter is going to visit you for a little bit."

The blizzard immediately swallowed her long, pink winter coat and her tiny footfalls in the snow drifts.

The only trace of her was a painstakingly wrapped parcel on Hatori's table, on top of the money she couldn't accept.


End file.
